


Out of the Mouths of Babes

by orphan_account



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Autism, Gen, Murder, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being different is hard.  It's even harder when your Mum is different too.  It becomes very lonely and sometimes you just have to live in your own world.  Sometimes you just need someone understanding to come in ....  Rebecca Fox was one of those different people.  This is her story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bored and scratchy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BK and Asparagusmama](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BK+and+Asparagusmama).



Becca was feeling scratchy. She could never explain to people what scratchy felt like on the inside. Most people understood "itchy" but that is on the outside.

 

She'd tried all the things that normally interested her but nothing kept her attention. THAT is what scratchy feels like. She wanted to put her hand inside her head and scratch.

 

She put a Lewis DVD on and wished she could go off on an investigation with James and Robbie. That would be a cure for scratchiness.

 

Just then there was a knock at the door and Becca nearly fell off the sofa when James Hathaway walked into the living room. He said "Hello Becca" like they'd known each other forever and he crouched down in front of her. She noticed that his trouser ends rode up, exposing his socks, which were silky and the same colour as his tie. She also noticed that there was a slight difference in the size of the dimples on either side of the knot on his tie which was the colour pink that she liked best.

 

Becca looked very carefully to see if James really WAS wearing make-up. He was - a light touch of mascara and a combination of beige and slightly darker brown eye shadow. He wasn't wearing lipstick but the glistening on his lips must have been lip-salve. Then she noticed that his lips moved almost independently of his words, as if they were two living animals, sitting on his face.

 

"Your mum says that you can help us, Becca" James continued. "There has been a murder. The victim was a girl a bit older than you but she suffered from autism too and we, that is Inspector Lewis and I, wondered if you could shed some light on how she might have been feeling, what might have made her go where she was found. Do you think you could do that?"

 

Becca rolled her eyes - well OF COURSE she COULD do that. The question was, would she want to? She stared past James' left ear, noting the scar on his chin, which was more prominent than it appeared on TV ... and thought for a while. Then she nodded, jumped off the sofa and held her hand out to Hathaway.

 

"Let's go then," she said impatiently.

 

Becca held James' hand and skipped down the path, jolting his arm and causing him to change his long stride. There was a silver car parked outside the gate. It had a slight scratch on the passenger's door and she wondered whether Hathaway had opened the door against something and if he'd get into trouble with Ma'am for "damaging police property". James opened the back door and held out a long thin hand to invite her to get in.

 

Becca shut her mouth in a thin line and shook her head. Oh no, she thought, if I am old enough to help with an "official investigation" I am old enough to sit in the front seat with you, darling James.

 

Putting on his "priest face", James looked up at the sky as if he were praying and then sighed.

 

"Alright, Madam, have it your own way."

He shut the back door and opened the scratched passenger door. Becca scrambled in and put on her seat belt, secretly delighted that she hadn't had to make a big fuss. She would have done, of course, if he had refused. Even though it was James Hathaway she would have made a very, very big fuss if she hadn't got to sit in the front.

 

The seat covers were thick blue velvet that felt prickly to her skin so she rubbed her hand across it over and over, making her hand warm. James looked at her and the gap in between his eyebrows creased slightly as if he were a little worried.

 

"Will you be OK, Becca? Your mummy said it was alright. She trusts us." Becca sighed and shook her head - for a very intelligent man he was being exceptionally dumb. Of COURSE she would be OK. She KNEW these people. They were her world. She lived with Robbie and James every day. Did he know nothing????

 

It seemed he did because as he put the car in gear, not looking as he shifted the short black gear stick into place, indicated carefully and pulled out into the road, he glanced across at her again and smiled, that very broad, re-assuring, gentle smile he used on victims and children. Becca gave him a hard stare. She was NOT victim or really a child - she was nearly as bright as him and she knew more about him than he knew about her, which gave her the advantage, she knew.

 

"I hear you and your mummy are our biggest supporters" James said without taking his eyes off the road. He grinned and asked "Who's your favourite then?" Becca tapped her fingers on the black stripe in her tights and sighed heavily.

 

"James, that's a very childish question for a grown-up." He blushed. He looked nice when he blushed. The redness went from the top of his cheekbones, down his face and even up under his ear ... she watched it go like a dye and giggled - she'd done that.

 

A few moments later James flicked his eyes from the driving mirror to Becca and said

“Could you not pick at the door fabric please, Becca? That could get expensive.”

She gave a big puff and bounced her legs on the seat, surprised that she could get bored even in the company of one of her heroes. She took a Barbie out of her shoulder bag and started making her do her catwalk model walk across the dashboard, swinging the long legs to cross each other, the pink skirt riding up as she did. The long legs made her think about James again so she stared ahead and said very clearly.

 

“I know, you know. Most people don’t and some people say it isn’t true, but I know.”

 

If he hadn’t been driving, Hathaway would have stared at her, obviously bemused. He just shrugged and said

 

“You’ve lost me there, Becca. What do you mean?”

She turned in her seat so she could see into his ear. She could see the tiny hairs pushed the wrong way against the collar of his shirt at the back of his neck and a slight pulsing in the vein in his neck. Becca noticed things like that. She put a very small hand on his, on the gear stick and patted it.

 

“I know about you and Robbie. My friends and I think it’s great. We’d love you to get together, so you don’t have to pretend in front of me. And I like your eye shadow … but I preferred the apricot colour.”

 

James Hathaway shook his head and looked in the mirror again, changing down to turn right and gave a long sigh – he got the feeling it was going to be a very long and probably a very difficult day.


	2. The pop bottle

Becca realised where they were going

“She wasn’t found by the canal, she was found by the ponds, Hinksey Ponds” she corrected.

James nodded.

 

“Will I be able to see the body?” Becca asked eagerly.

 

“Don’t think so, Becca. That won’t be necessary. We need you to imagine some things for us, that’s all. But it’s a big “all”. Nobody else we know could do it.”

 

Becca was slightly mollified that she wouldn’t get to view the body but wondered if James was humouring her, trying to make her feel important so she didn’t “go off on one”. She hated it when people under-estimated her, which they did very often.

 

As they drew up by the thick reeds around the ponds, she looked carefully at the scene. There were two police cars, two plain cars and a van that was probably from the undertaker’s. She deduced that one plain car would be Lewis, the other probably Dr Hobson and she suddenly felt weird at not wanting to meet these people who were more real than the people in her street.

 

James got out and opened the door for her but she shook her head, wanting to steady herself before she had to meet so many people. James crouched down again so he was blocking the doorway, looking at her, that look again, as if he had to look at her very carefully so he didn’t set her off.

 

That was the expression, she thought, it was as if she had a bottle of fizzy drink in her head and most of the time, if things were OK, if things were as they should be, if people did as they were supposed to, then the bottle was fine, but if people shook the bottle up, then it exploded everywhere. She couldn’t do anything about it that was just what happened, the fizzy drink in the bottle shot off in all directions. Even this wonderful surprise, James Hathaway turning up at her house and asking her to help him and Robbie, even this was too different, too strange and she felt a bit as if the ground was falling from under her feet, a bit dizzy and unsteady.

 

Hathaway cleared his throat and said,

 

“Becca?” He didn’t continue until she was looking at him. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Nobody is going to blame you and I’ll take you straight home. Is that what you want to do, hmm?”

 

Becca concentrated very hard on the pink sparkly blobs on her skirt. She picked at the sequins on her jumper and breathed in very hard. If she tried hard enough she could sometimes put the cap back on the fizzy pop bottle. She shook her head and raised her eyes to James.

 

His eyes were lovely. He looked concerned again and the crease between his eyebrows made a sort of W shape and put his pale eyebrows out of shape, making them look like archery bows. She concentrated very hard on his face, so familiar but so weird being in real life …. She could smell his after-shave which was also nice, not strong but pleasing. She watched his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallowed before speaking again. Becca was just starting on his ear-lobes when he said:

 

“I’ll take you home then.” She shook her head and put a hand up to touch him. He didn’t flinch – but let her run an exploratory finger down his cheek. His skin felt soft but with a very slight scratchiness of his stubble. She didn’t get to touch a man’s skin very often and was intrigued by how different it felt from her own or Mummy’s.

 

“No,” she said decisively “I want to help, so you better let me out, I need to see the scene of the crime before SOCO trample all over it.” She was so small and so serious that James snorted quietly in amusement then stood up and held out a hand – he didn’t know if she would take it. She did and then turned to close the silver door.

 

“Did you know you have a scratch on the door, James?” She asked.

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“Will you get into trouble?”

 

“No, it’s my car. It’s OK.” They were walking towards the “Police Do Not Cross” tape and she suddenly realised that she was walking hand in hand with James Hathaway on a crime scene and her knees went wobbly.

 

A uniformed woman police officer rushed over and grabbed her.

 

“Alright, dear, I expect you feel a bit faint, don’t you, Becca?” James winced and went to say something but it was too late. The stupid woman had committed two big errors – she’d touched without permission and she’d used the diminutive without introduction.

 

Becca glared at the woman with pure venom and filled her lungs to get up a good head of steam. The noise that came out of her mouth would have stopped traffic and the language she used would have caused a nun to drop dead.

 

The gist of the message was that nobody, but nobody ever touched Becca without her say-so, would she, the policewoman, like it if someone just ran up and grabbed her? Would the stupid bitch enjoy it if people used her pet name, reserved for family and close friends without even saying who she was? Well would she? This was interspersed with as many bits of foul language that she could fit between the words without losing the meaning completely.

 

It was when she drew her foot back to aim a hefty kick at the police officer that Robbie Lewis stepped in. He put himself between the two females and bent forward

 

“Rebecca! Don’t do that or I will have to charge you. Do you know what I’d charge you with? “

 

Distracted, Becca thought about it for a second and said

 

“Assaulting a police officer?” Robbie nodded and looked very grim.

 

“And probably Actual Bodily Harm if that kick had connected. So please don’t kick my officers, if you don’t mind… Robbie Lewis,” he held out his hand. Becca shook it solemnly, glad of a grown-up who knew how to behave. Lewis turned to the woman PC and told her to go away.

 

Laura Hobson came forward, ducking under the tape and removing her gloves, just as Becca had seen her do in so many episodes. Her hair was not as fine as Becca thought it might be and her mascara was a bit smudged but she looked calm and safe and friendly. She also held her hand out to the girl.

 

“Rebecca Fox? I’m Laura Hobson, pleased to meet you.” She also looked you straight in the eye, something that pleased Becca. She looked at her very carefully, noticing the mud on the legs of her paper suit, the paper covers over her shoes and the way the elasticated waist had ridden up because it was too big. She shook hands with Laura too and then, remembering what she’d heard in the series she looked at her and said

 

“So what have we got Doc?” All three of them smiled, but in a nice way.

 

“Tammy Stubbs, 14 years old, pupil at Highmains School, we found her library card on her, strangled with her own scarf.” Becca nodded and asked:

 

“Any signs of sexual assault?” There were choking noises from behind her but Becca could only concentrate on one person at a time so she ignored them.

 

“No, no disturbance of her underclothes. Straight murder. Time of death about four hours ago – time of death between 4 and 7 this morning.”

 

“You’ll know better when you get her to the lab.” Becca finished for her. Laura gave her a knowing wink and said

 

“You really do know what you’re doing. You’re not an undercover pathologist are you?” For the first time, Becca smiled, a really big, sun-coming-out smile and pulled out her Barbie.

 

“No, I’m not, but Barbie is …….. Barbie, top pathologist.”

 

Over her head James and Robbie exchanged glances and shook their heads. This one was way, way beyond their experience.


	3. Becca investigates

Laura Hobson spent a few moments talking to Robbie Lewis and then stripped off her paper suit to get into her car and drive off.

Becca looked around, having noted that Laura crunched the gears on her car and spun gravel when she took off – she decided that when she was grown up she would like to be a pathologist and drive with style, making people look. She waved to Laura who held a hand up to her.

This was cool. The important people in her life were taking notice of her and she was PART OF IT. She turned the Barbie towards her and had a conversation with her.

“So we need to know what brought her here. We need some background information. Need to speak to the parents.”

Robbie cleared his throat and looked at James.

“Becca,” when she turned around he continued “I don’t know that we can take you to visit her parents, pet.” Becca nearly screamed – Robbie had called her “pet” ……. He only ever called James that in the fanfics or his daughter in the series. She jumped up and down a bit, skipping on the spot to get rid of the bubbles that made in her pop bottle.

“But I understand these things. I’m your expert witness. Wouldn’t they understand if you told them that?” Her direct and piercing look could have set fire to a lesser man. Hathaway interposed by saying,

“Perhaps if I were to ask them first, Sir, you and Becca could stay in the car and if they say no, well then we’ll have to think again.”

“If anyone can persuade them, you can, James, do your priest thing.” Becca advised and Hathaway sighed deeply.

“Has anyone ever told you, Becca, that you are not so much a child but a five hundred year old midget?”

“Well uniform have been to inform the parents and a domestic unit officer is there now. Is there anything else you want to do, Becca?” Robbie turned to her and waved an arm around the scene. “Anything else you need to see?”

Becca let her eyes wander very intently around, looking for anything that wasn’t right. It was difficult now that SOCO had walked around the place. Then she noticed something between the trees at the edge of the golf course, something sparkly, the side of a car, no a caravan.

“There are travellers over there” she announced. “That’s not right.”

Both Hathaway and Lewis squinted in the direction she was pointing and nodded.

“Well done, Becca – that’s a point. Anything else?” Becca looked carefully at the ground near the pond, near where the rushes stopped and started to walk down the slope, staring down and then crouched down.

“There hasn’t been a car here but there are footmarks – look, trainers. Someone came jogging here recently.” Becca really did notice things. “And why would she come here? Did she live in the village?” She turned to Lewis who was waving for SOCO to come and take a cast of the trainer mark.

“Yes, Becca, her family live in South Hinkley.” She shook her head, knowing that adults always wanted to stop young people doing anything that might be the slightest bit dangerous.

“They must have told her not to come to the ponds on her own. She could have fallen in; parents are dead weird about things like that.”

The two detectives walked to their cars and Becca couldn’t decide who to go with – she hated having to make up her mind like that, so she was very grateful when Robbie glanced back over his shoulder and said

“In here with me, please young lady – I don’t think James’ interior upholstery can take much more of your attention.” At least he didn’t even suggest she go in the back seat. He let her open the door and get in herself. As she strapped herself in he said very sternly

“So no picking at the material OK? Tell Barbie what sort of questions you’re going to ask the parents – I expect she might have some ideas too.” Becca gave him a sidelong glance and tutted, Barbie was a dolly for fuck’s sake. How could a dolly have good ideas about investigations? Barbie was there as a relief of tension, to help keep the cap on the pop bottle. She sighed and shook her head. It sometimes seemed to her that the more intelligent a grown up was supposed to be, the more bloody stupid they could act!

Mr and Mrs Stubbs lived in a very pretty cottage in the middle of the village with a nice neat garden at the front. Becca chewed her lip as she evaluated the signs – middle class, definitely middle class, either the Dad was retired or they could afford a gardener because that garden wouldn’t do itself. Tammy was 14 … so if her dad was retired, no, that wouldn’t work. So they were rich enough to employ a gardener. And they lived in the middle of the village, so Tammy would have had to walk half way through it to get to the ponds. Someone might have seen her, depending on when she went out. People did go out early, jogging, walking their dogs …

James had been in the house for five minutes when he appeared at the door and discreetly waved a hand. They were in! Robbie turned to Becca and put on his “deadly serious” face.

“Becca listen to me. I want you to understand something. These nice people have just discovered that their daughter was murdered. Now I know you have problems working out how people feel, so just stop for a minute and use your imagination. Just suppose your Mummy had heard that YOU were murdered. How would she feel?”

Becca considered, yes this was difficult because feelings were not her strong point. Robbie tried again.

“OK – just imagine. Just for pretend, not for real. If your Mummy had been murdered, how would you feel when you were told?” Becca started to wobble. Robbie reached out a hand and patted her shoulder. “No, pet, just for pretend. How would you feel?”

“Sad,” she whispered “very sad … and angry.”

“Good girl. Well Mr and Mrs Stubbs are very, very sad and probably angry too. So be kind to them, will you do that for me?” She nodded, feeling hollow and empty inside. Just for once she really could imagine how that would feel, Mummy murdered? It just didn’t bear thinking about. She would be kind.

When James showed them into the living room, the woman police officer was in the kitchen making a pot of tea, the universal cure-all. Mr and Mrs Stubbs were sitting on the sofa, holding hands. Yes, they were old to have a 14 year old daughter but no, he didn’t look retired. Mrs Stubbs had been crying, her eyes were red and she dabbed at them with a soggy hankie she kept in the cuff of her cardigan.

Becca tried not to make it obvious she was looking but she was taking note of everything. Mrs Stubbs was a dumpy woman in a pink acrylic cardigan, but not a nice pink, a dark pink. She wore navy blue slacks and a blouse with a swirly pattern on it. She wasn’t wearing make up but then Becca supposed she was the sort of woman that didn’t wear make-up except on special nights out, dinner dances.

Mr Stubbs was wearing a suit and she supposed he’d had to come back from work or was ready for work when he got the news. On the wall was a framed oil picture of four children. There were photos around the room in silver frames including two wedding pictures. She assumed that Tammy had much older brothers and sisters. There were also a lot of china birds, especially kingfishers. She counted five just in the living room and a clock with lots of different birds on it. There were also sports trophies in a cabinet.

James put a hand behind Becca’s back without touching or pushing her forward

“This is Rebecca Fox, the girl I told you about. We hope she might be able to help us work out why Tammy would go off like that.”

Becca held out her hand to Mrs Stubbs and said “I’m sorry about Tammy.” Mrs Stubbs went to shake hands but had her soggy hankie in it so she paused to stuff it up her sleeve before shaking hands, rather surprised. Mr Stubbs held out his hand too.

“Was it Tammy who liked birds so much?” she asked. He nodded and swallowed hard. It must be hard to talk about her in the past tense. “Did she often go out looking at birds? Ornithology? Was that her hobby?” Again, Mr. Stubbs nodded without speaking. “And what sports did she like?”

Mrs Stubbs took over “Gymnastics. She was going in for the county championships. Her favourite was floor work, ribbons and hoops.” Becca nodded and then asked quite suddenly,

“May I look at her room please?” The parents looked at each other and Mrs Stubbs started to cry again very quietly, not sobbing but just letting tears flow down her face.

Mr Stubbs stood up and motioned Becca to follow him.

“Just one of you if you please,” he said to the two detectives, “this isn’t a bloody side-show.” Robbie indicated to James to stay with Mrs Stubbs and followed them up the stairs.  
Tammy’s bedroom was very nearly like Becca’s but more expensive, and covered in certificates for “artistic dance” and gymnastics. There were posters of pop stars but mainly there were pictures of birds, framed prints and pictures cut from magazines.

Becca immediately felt under the pillow and found what she was looking for – a diary. She opened it and turned to today’s date.

“TW, Kingfisher 530” she read.


	4. Paperwork

Lewis was amazed at the assurance with which Becca slipped the diary into the proffered evidence bag and turned to Mr. Stubbs

 

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep this as evidence, Mr. Stubbs. I hope you don’t mind, it might help us work out why Tammy disappeared like that. We’ll let you have it back as soon as possible”

 

He knew genuine DCs that were less professional. He didn’t know that for the most part the words were copied verbatim from scenes she had watched – the detecting was her own but the script was copied. Becca looked around the room again.

 

“Tammy didn’t have a computer?” she asked. The father shook his head.

 

“I’m afraid we’re a bit old fashioned. I have one at work and my wife has no use for them. Tammy wasn’t interested.” His voice wobbled on the word “was” and Becca watched his lips tremble and then get compressed into a thin line before he continued firmly “You have to understand, Rebecca, that our Tammy, wasn’t … wasn’t as … competent as you. She was a very little girl in her head.” He had nearly broken again and being so close to very strong emotion, just this once, Becca understood. She nodded and looked away, overcome with the strong feelings that were coming out of this grown up. She pulled out Barbie from her bag and danced her down the bed, humming a song to herself.

 

Robbie looked over her head at Mr. Stubbs

 

“I think we’ve finished here, Sir. Thank you very much for your co-operation…and for being so …accommodating with Rebecca. We’ll get back to you if we have any news.”

 

Mr Stubbs nodded and sighed then crouched down to look Becca in the face, he was used to it, she supposed, talking to people who were “different” like her, like Tammy.

 

“I want to thank you Rebecca” he said very clearly, making sure she was looking at him. “I know how difficult this could be for you and I want you to know that my wife and I appreciate it.” Becca nodded without looking at him because she had got Barbie doing a disco dance and was a bit busy.

 

They left the house and Becca decided she would go with James. She grabbed his hand and did a waltz time down the path with him, one two three, one two three, putting him off his stride. She was good at that in all ways, he reflected.

 

“Miss? You go in my car on one condition – OK?” he demanded.

 

“No messing up the upholstery,” she sighed, rolling her eyes up and puffing out her cheeks “Boooooorrring!”

 

“I’m a very boring person, Becca, as you may come to find out,” said James as he opened the front passenger door for her. But he was a gentleman, she thought, Robbie didn’t open the door for he like she was a lady.

 

She sat quietly in the seat all the way to the station, not squirming or wriggling, just singing to herself; that made her think of something else.

 

“I want to hear you play your guitar, James,” she said firmly. He didn’t take his eyes off the traffic but smiled

 

“Try “I’d like” instead of “I want” and I’ll think about it. I know you don’t hear the difference but I do.” Becca thought about it and turned the two phrases around in her head, nope, she couldn’t see the difference but what the fuck, if it made lovely James happy –

 

“I’d like to hear you play your guitar please dear sweet lovely handsome gay makeup- wearing squiggly cuddly James,” she said finally. He let out a snort of laughter and banged a hand on the steering wheel.

 

“That’s better! I’ll think about it.” She blew out an exasperated puff of air and kicked her heels against the seat – bloody grown ups! They ask you to do something for them and then say “I’ll think about it. Well fuck ‘em”

 

Back at the station she walked along the corridors, Robbie in front and James behind as if she were some semi-wild animal they were frightened would bolt and run away. She wasn’t going anywhere! This is where she’d wanted to be forever!!

 

They got installed in Robbie and James’ office where Becca took the diary, found a fluorescent marker (pink) in her bag and started to work backwards from today’s date. James leaned over her, one hand on the desk, his cuff brushing her hair and looked down.

 

“That’s useful – what are you looking for, Becca?” Without looking up she waved him away impatiently

 

“Anomalies – anything that’s different. We see things other people don’t and we notice them better. So I want to see if Tammy had written anything in her diary that doesn’t fit with everything else in her diary. See?”

 

James turned away and left her too it, studiously bent over the desk, completely absorbed in her task, sometimes flicking the marker across something on the page. She was lost to them. He caught Robbie’s eye and they shrugged at each other – it would have been the first thing they’d have done too.

 

Jean Innocent came into the office but Becca didn’t notice. Only when the big boss leaned over the other side of the desk and said her name did the girl look up, irritated and puffing

 

“Hello, Becca, I’m Jean Innocent. Are you sure you are OK with all this? It’s most unusual and I hesitated a lot before OKing it – are you sure now?” Becca drummed her fingers on the desk, she KNEW who this was and she had already told everyone at least four times that it was fine, why wouldn’t people just leave her alone. She had work to do.

 

Laura Hobson came in to talk to Robbie and James but Becca was absorbed in her work and didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t until Robbie called to her across the room

 

“Becca!” She looked up again, still annoyed at being disturbed; it had been getting very interesting.

 

She pushed her lower lip out and blew hard, making a rasping noise.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Lunchtime, pet, we need to get you fed. Don’t worry, your mummy rang with a list of things you mustn’t have.” Like many special people, Becca had allergies. She couldn’t eat gluten or milk products but she KNEW that, they didn’t have to go asking her mum, they could have asked her!!

 

She got down from her chair and picked up the diary and the marker to put in her bag.

 

“Do you need to take that with you?” Laura asked. Becca gave her a withering look, she was getting scratchy, she needed to eat but she didn’t want to stop this important job.

 

“Well do you want it done or not, bitch?” She heard herself say.

 

Laura didn’t say anything, she just turned and walked out of the office. Robbie and James gave her a hard stare and then called a woman police constable to come in.

 

“Two choices, Becca,” said Robbie with a face of complete stone. “You can apologise to Dr. Hobson and have lunch with us or you can go to the canteen with PC Maitland. Your choice, Madam.”

 

Becca didn’t like backing down. In fact she had almost never been known to do so, but the thought of going out to lunch with the team was too tempting and Robbie had called her “madam” and not “pet”.

 

She ran to the door and shot down the corridor before anyone could stop her, screaming

 

“Laura! Laura! I’m sorry. Please come back.” Dr. Hobson stopped by the fire door and turned around.

 

“If you ever call me names like that again young lady, you are off the case. Do you hear me?”

 

Becca nodded miserably. She didn’t mean to be bad it was just that sometimes her mouth and her feet worked before she could stop them. She gave her hand to Laura and squeezed it, smiling up at her.

 

“You’re not a bitch. You’re very nice. I didn’t mean it.” Resisting the urge to ruffle the top of her head, Laura Hobson held the door open and they skipped through together.

 

James and Robbie, following up behind, grinned at each other, they’d never seen their pathologist skipping.


	5. Out to Lunch

The pub had a very nice garden with tables and benches and Becca knew she ought to sit quietly and behave. She walked in sedately, still holding Laura’s hand but not skipping. The pathologist sat on one side of the table and obviously expected Becca to join her but she danced around and inserted herself between the two men. It felt weird but nice to be squidged up between them. She smiled up at Robbie and James, turning her head from one to the other, thinking this was the very best time of her life.

 

Robbie and James went into the pub to get drinks and came out with menus. James put a glass of coke with a straw, ice and lemon in front of her for which she was grateful, it looked like a “grown up drink” and she peered up under her lashes as they sipped at their drinks – a pint of Guinness for James, a pint of bitter for Robbie and a large glass of white wine for Laura.

 

“Cheers” she ventured. Laura clinked glasses with her and said cheers back while Robbie just raised his pint and his eyebrows. James, ever the show-off, linked arms with her to drink a roman toast which she had seen in Gladiator and said:

 

“Ut valeas!” Becca tried to copy and nearly got there. She fixed him with a hard stare and said

 

“That’s Latin.” He lifted his Guinness and replied

 

“Correct – meaning?” She had to guess so said –

 

“Cheers or maybe Good Health”

 

Robbie snorted and looked at Laura

 

“I think we ought to bugger off and leave these two geniuses together, don’t you, Laura?” The doctor sniggered and shook her head.

 

“Encourage her, Robbie. There are few enough 11 year olds that can keep up with the dashing sergeant.”

 

“Dashing White Sergeants … old fashioned dance.” Becca was really enjoying showing off in front of adults who didn’t object.

 

“Do you like dancing, Rebecca?” Laura asked, leaning forward so it looked as if she were really interested.

 

“You can call me Becca now. You’re my friend. I like dancing but only some kinds of dancing and not if you have to do as someone else SAYS you have to. I wouldn’t like to do olden times dancing.”

 

“Well that’s me out of the picture,” Robbie grinned. “I’m strictly a quickstep and foxtrot man me self.”

 

Then all of them started looking at the menus and talking at once which Becca really hated so she got out the diary and continued her work of highlighting anomalies. She couldn’t cope with everyone speaking and not knowing when she was supposed to speak so she opted out, went into her own corner, in her own head. It was the only way to stop the pop bottle exploding and she didn’t want that to happen with these people. She had invested too much time and … yes, love, in them to alienate them now.

 

She was completely absorbed in the diary, Barbie sitting on the table, her legs keeping the pages open, when Robbie patted her on the arm

 

“Becca – you can have steak and chips or veg curry. If you have steak and chips, you can have a takeaway veg curry tonight – that OK?” She didn’t look up but nodded. That was good, she liked not having to make too many decisions, when someone asked her to pick from a long list her head went funny and she preferred to have A or B. Preferably A with an option of B later … just as Robbie had done.

 

She looked sideways at him without being noticed and wondered what it would be like to have a Dad like him, or even to have him as a Dad. She didn’t have a Dad. Well, she did but he might as well not have existed, he didn’t even remember her birthday and never bothered with her and Mummy. That was the team really, her and Mummy … team of three if you count the wheelchair. Robbie was all wrinkly and rumpled. His skin, his clothes, his hair…even his hands were rumpled. But he gave off a safe and strong feeling. She thought that if she were next to Robbie then nothing bad could happen to her. Like James’ aftershave, it was subtle but she could sense it. She could very often sense things like that. She wasn’t good at “emotions” but she could do feelings when it indicated what a person was really like. She thought that if Robbie had been her Dad maybe she wouldn’t have so many “pop bottle moments” … she slid her hand across the table and stroked his knuckles.

 

“Y’alright, pet?” She nodded, feeling safer and more secure than she had in a long time. For some reason she wanted to cry. This was the world she had wanted to live in for so long and now she was here and already she had “gone off on one” a couple of times. She was truly sorry. She hoped they wouldn’t send her away and promised herself that she would be good.

 

James lit a cigarette and leaned back, blowing the smoke into the air, away from everyone else. Becca coughed pointedly. He grinned at her and stood up to go by the wall that led to the drop down to the water meadows. He stood with his hands in his pockets, gazing out across the view, his cigarette hanging from his mouth and Becca thought he was probably the most handsome man she had ever seen. She was old enough to wonder if he could fall in love with her, but she was also intelligent enough to know that he couldn’t.

 

Laura was talking to Robbie and Becca tried to come into the conversation but it was difficult for her to catch up. The pathologist noticed and recapped for her

 

“Becca – I was telling Robbie that I found no defensive injuries and there were no traces under the fingernails apart from fibres that will probably prove to be from her scarf. What would that tell you?”

 

Without hesitation Becca replied

“She knew her attacker. She didn’t feel threatened until the moment she was being strangled. And the killer probably wore gloves. Was she attacked from the front?” Laura nodded. “Point proved,” said Becca “She was standing facing the person who killed her and she suspected nothing.”

 

Robbie leaned back, his hands in his pockets and stretched his legs, blowing his cheeks out in a long breath

 

“Yer a bit good at this young lady. Do you know that? Where do you get it from?” Becca just smiled smugly, a real James Hathaway smile and shook her head.

 

“Natural talent, Sir. I was born hyper intelligent.” Becca loved drama at school and she had managed to mimic Hathaway’s posh voice so well that the other two burst out laughing. Robbie, without thinking dug her in the ribs and said

 

“Cheeky bloody monkey.” There was a slight hiatus as Laura waited for the explosion but Becca didn’t mind – within limits Robbie could touch. Within limits though, nobody had the right to get too close without invitation. It wasn’t right, and things had to be right or the world fell apart.

 

James rejoined them, smelling of smoke which caused Becca to wrinkle her nose and wave her hand under her nose.

 

“You tell him, Becca” said Robbie, “I’ve been trying for years. Show James what you just did. You’ll have to watch this one, Sergeant; she’ll be ringing up and booking restaurant tables in your name.”

 

Becca took the floor and pretended to hold a phone to her ear.

“Hello? Riverside Restaurant? Yes, my name’s Hathaway, James Hathaway. I’d like to book a table for two for Saturday evening. Yes, it IS a special occasion; I’m going to propose to my boyfriend.” Her voice was again perfect but she didn’t realise the embarrassment she had caused.

 

To break the situation, James pointed at the diary and asked

 

“Have you noticed any anomalies yet Becca?” The food arrived and that took up some time as the diary and Barbie had to be put in just the right place, to the right of her knife, exactly between her and Laura. Some time was spent putting the salt and pepper in the right places too “OK – show me afterwards, DC Becca,” James smiled.

 

She had a rank! She grinned even though she knew it was childish to be so pleased. Inspector Lewis, Dr. Hobson, Detective Sergeant Hathaway …and Detective Constable Becca; she giggled to herself uncontrollably. Oh this was immense fun. This was the best ever!


	6. Confrontation

When they had finished their main courses Becca pulled the diary towards her and hunched over it, pointing to things as Hathaway demolished a large piece of strawberry gateau. Becca didn’t have a pudding because there was nothing non-dairy or fruit. She was used to it.

 

“See here,” she said, running a finger down a page. “Mostly it is really boring stuff, how much time she spent training and what she ate. But every now and again there’s a thing that doesn’t go – look, XXX and three exclamation marks. She sometimes puts in what birds she’s seen at weekends but this X thing doesn’t go. It isn’t right.” That was Becca’s most common expression “not right”.

 

James looked at the diary carefully and flicked a few pages.

 

“You really are bloody good at this, you know,” he commented.

 

“Yes, I know,” she said factually. Well she was; it was a statement.

 

“Any ideas what these three Xs might mean then?” Robbie asked. Becca shook her head.

 

“Obviously something well out of the ordinary or she wouldn’t have noted it. Look here – training 1hour 7 minutes, sausage quiche; training 1hour 45 minutes, chicken salad: it’s all the same. Then on the Saturday – heron, woodpecker, moorhens and 3 Muscovy ducks; 2 hours 18 minutes training, spaghetti bolognaise. These X things are well weird.”

 

Laura stood up and held out a hand to Becca

 

“I’d better get back to work. It’s been lovely to meet you, Becca. Hope we see each other again soon.” Becca shook hands solemnly and then gave Laura one of her brightest smiles.

 

“I’m sure we will, Laura, after all, I’m on the case now, I’m one of the team.”

 

Once again, Robbie and James exchanged looks over her head, wondering what they’d got themselves into and if they would come to regret it.

 

“I think our best bet is to start at her school,” said Becca judiciously. James suppressed a giggle and Robbie gave her a withering look.

 

“Thank you, DC Becca,” he said with mock severity, “I think I might have come to that conclusion myself given time.” He paused as he finished off his pint. “She went to Highmains School – do you know it?” Becca thought for a moment – anything outside of her own sphere took a bit of reflection. She might have done but it wasn’t important to her so it didn’t figure too highly.

 

“If we are going to go and interview staff, Sir, how are we going to explain Becca’s presence?” James wondered. Robbie scratched his chin and said after a few moments’ thought

 

“Can’t… we’ll have to do this separately. If we need Becca to come in on this we’ll have to use … what is it you say, Hathaway? Underhand cunning and subterfuge? Well, that. I’ll go in and be “official”. If and when we decide Becca needs to be involved you can take her along as a prospective pupil. By then I’d have a better idea who I need her to see and where.”

 

Becca opened her mouth to object but a stern look from Robbie made her shut it again and she just banged her fist against the table hard enough to make other clients turn and look. She started drumming both her fists and got invited to accompany the detectives to the car.

 

James walked Becca back to the station and told her she was going to see real detective work in action. This involved working on the computer and pinning things on the big whiteboard. Becca enjoyed doing that – there were photos of Tammy, dead on the ground and they wrote on the board in felt tip marker. James showed her how to make a “mind map” and they connected up the things they knew and drew lines to show how they might interconnect.

 

Becca spent a long time doing that while James got on with looking up the staff at Highmains School and printing out a list. While he was doing a search on the police records for each of the staff, Becca came and stood behind him, running her hand over his hair, liking how it felt spiky and short. She rubbed it back and forth until it stood up at the back.

 

“Could you not do that please, Becca? It’s rather uncomfortable and, like you, I’m not very keen on being touched.”

 

She moved around to the side so she could look at him very hard in profile.

 

“Not true,” she declared. “You wouldn’t mind if Robbie touched you.” Hathaway sighed very deeply, put his hands together in front of his lips and put his head back. He then swivelled his chair towards her and stared right into her eyes.

 

“Two things, Becca - One, this is absolutely none of your business … or anyone else’s for that matter. My personal life is just that – personal. I don’t care what you think you know, or what you surmise about me but I’d really like it if you kept your opinions to yourself. Two – it is very rude and unacceptable to make remarks like that to anyone.” He stopped for a moment, trying to find a metaphor that might resonate with an 11 year old girl. “It’s like going to the toilet,” he continued “everyone does it but nobody talks about it. That’s just how it is.”

 

“But it’s not a secret from me!!!” she wailed. “I know all about you. I’ve watched and watched and I KNOW you look at him like that.”

 

James resisted the urge to shake her but just turned back to the screen saying

 

“I’m not listening Rebecca; I am just not listening.” The tips of his ears had turned pink and she knew he was very angry.

 

“Can I have a Coke, please?” She ventured.

 

“No.”

 

“I need to go to the toilet.” James didn’t look at her but called out very loudly

 

“PC Maitland … could you escort Rebecca to the ladies’ please?”

 

“No, I don’t need it now.”

 

Panic was starting to grab Becca and she felt sick and faint. She had screwed up big time but she didn’t know how. She felt sweaty and dizzy. James wouldn’t look at her and that was very important to her. She stumbled over to the water cooler in the corridor and tried to get a paper cup; she fumbled filling it and poured water all over the floor, no that was all wrong, that wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She felt a big scream coming up to her throat and then she tried to choke it back. The more she tried to swallow the noise, the dizzier she felt until she knew she was reeling. She hit the floor like a sack of potatoes and only came to when James was waving a bottle of something absolutely foul-smelling under her nose.

 

“OK Becca, OK. Stay still and don’t try to move. Tell me when you feel a bit more solid.” She nodded, limp and wobbly. James put an arm under her shoulders and helped her to sit up. She started to cry, turning her face to him and sobbing uncontrollably, clutching his sleeve but unable to say why.

 

“I’m sorry, Becca, that was my fault. I find it difficult to remember that you’re only a child. I talked to you like a grown up lady and that was silly on my part. But you are so very grown up in so many ways that we forget sometimes. Are you OK? Do you need Dr. Hobson to look at you?” She shook her head, sniffing and rubbing her nose on her hand. James produced a beautifully laundered hankie and passed it to her. She blew her nose loudly and sniffed again.

 

“I know you don’t understand these things, Becca. Let’s just agree that we don’t talk about my private life at all, OK? Whatever you think, whether it is true or not, you just keep it to yourself. Deal?” She nodded again and mumbled something he couldn’t hear. He assumed it was sorry and not “twat” which is what it sounded like.


	7. Direct and inappropriate

James gave Becca a pile of paper and sat her at his desk while he used Robbie’s computer. She got out her glitter pens and started drawing pictures of Barbie Ace Detective.

 

Becca wasn’t comfortable because although she didn’t understand why, she knew that James had been angry, so without looking at him, still concentrating on her picture, she said softly

 

“Jaaaaaaaames?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are we still friends, James?”

 

“Of course we are, Becca.” Hathaway looked up at her across the desk and pointed a pencil at her. “You have to try and be a little less direct and I have to try and remember that you are still only a child, even if you have got a brain the size of a minor universe. How about I say “Direct” when you are being too up-front?” He grinned across at her and winked.

 

She liked that, brain the size of a minor universe so she started singing it while she coloured in, then she decided to draw James as a Barbie. She gave him nice eye-shadow and dressed him in pink and purple with very high heels and he looked great so she wrote “James Hathaway, International Detective and Super-Model” beside it.

 

Jean Innocent poked her head around the office door and frowned at the whiteboard with the photos of Tammy Stubbs, purple in the face and with her tongue sticking out, strangled by her own gauze scarf. She then looked pointedly at the little girl at James’ desk.

 

“Hello, Rebecca, are you still here then?” She was using that very bright, jolly tone that adults did when they weren’t used to talking to “special” people, rather like people who were afraid of dogs saying “nice doggie” when they had to walk past one.

 

Becca looked up, looked around the room and then sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling.

 

“Looks like it. I’m nowhere else so I must be here duuuuh.” James winced but didn’t say anything. He got up and went to the door, guiding Innocent out into the corridor with him. Becca wasn’t listening, she was now drawing Robbie as a super-model but it didn’t go right.

 

Innocent was looking worried and glancing into the office, while James was being placatory, speaking with his hands up, palms out as if to calm her down. She shook her head a few times but then walked back down the corridor to her office.

 

“She doesn’t want me here,” Becca said flatly.

 

“No,” James replied. “I won’t lie to you, Becca, she’s not at all happy with the situation but I said that you were proving invaluable so we’d have to keep you with us at least until tomorrow.”

 

“Does that mean I can come and stay at your flat and listen to you playing guitar?” She bounced around the office a bit and James said

 

“Nice try, Becca, but no, it doesn’t. That would be “highly inappropriate” if you know what that means.”

 

She sucked the end of her pen and thought for a minute and said

 

“Yes, like we are not supposed to be on our own with a teacher because we’ll say he raped us?” James winced again and shook his head.

 

“Direct, Becca, very direct! Exactly like that and yes, for the same reason although you know very well that I’d never do anything to hurt you but we have to avoid situations where people can say things even if they aren’t true.”

 

For someone who didn’t like to be touched, when she initiated it, Becca could do touching. She scampered across the office and put her arms around James middle, looking up at him and saying

 

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me James, never ever.” He looked down at her trusting face and shining eyes and his mouth wobbled a bit. He removed her arms very gently and said

 

“Inappropriate, Becca. Nice, but inappropriate. Innocent would have a fit if she saw us cuddling in the office.” It made his rejection of her hug a lot easier and she started to giggle. Then James giggled and by the time Robbie Lewis walked through the door they were both helpless with laughter.

 

“Glad to see you two are getting on with the job while I’m out working,” he observed dryly. “Right, I’ve got a list of people we might need to interview again, the ones who had most contact with Tammy.”

 

“Did you see her quiet space?” Becca asked suddenly.

 

“What’s that?” Robbie asked. Becca did her eye-rolling, sighing, exasperated performance and replied

 

“Duuuuuuuuuuuh, a place you go to be quiet ….obviously… duuuuh and double duuuh.” The two detectives looked at each other.

 

“Well that is exactly the sort of thing we brought Becca in to tell us, Sir” James pointed out.

 

“Thank you, Sergeant, I’m well aware of why I asked Becca to help us.”

 

“Sorry, Sir.”

 

Becca looked at them and decided this wasn’t interesting so she picked up her paper and waved it at Robbie

 

“Look, Robbie, I’ve made you and James be Super-Barbies!” Robbie took the paper and pretended to study it carefully.

 

“Very nice artwork,” he said eventually but I don’t know that I could see James coming to work in a ball gown or me in a mini-skirt … that might cause comment.”

 

She sighed again – why were people so fucking stupid? Why did they need things explaining to them all the time? She grabbed the paper back and started ripping it up.

 

“NO, no, no, no, no, no, that was you being Super-Barbies, not policemen, don’t you know anything? Oh you are so fucking thick.”

 

James started to say something but Robbie shushed him

 

“Do you need a quiet place, Becca? I think all this has got you a bit wound up – shall we see if we can find you a place to be quiet in? Would that be good?” Becca nodded. She was going all fizzy again and even though she wasn’t bored, she was getting scratchy.

 

While Robbie led Becca away to an interview room where she could sit quietly for a while, James took the phone call that came from Becca’s mum. She was feeling very poorly. The illness that kept her in a wheelchair had flared up again and she wondered if it would be at all possible for Becca to stay with them overnight. She wouldn’t have asked but there was nobody else she could call on and she was worried she might end up hospitalised again. Yes, she’d rung the doctor and was waiting for a paramedic to call.

 

James transferred the call to Laura Hobson to talk about Becca’s medication and leaned back in his chair, ruffling his hair and blowing out a long breath. This was getting very tiring.

 

He had no idea!!!


	8. Off to Laura's

After the phone call, things went into battle-stations. Laura Hobson was called up to an “emergency meeting” during which the adults all talked at once and left Becca lost and frustrated. She switched off and amused herself by rummaging through James’ desk-drawers, finding very expensive hand-cream, lip gloss and a mascara, as well as boring stuff. Huh, she thought, so much for “it’s complicated, Sir”.

 

The adults were doing their best to talk urgently while pretending to smile a lot and seem cool. She really didn’t understand this bit.

 

Eventually Laura came over and said

 

“Becca, you’re going to come and spend the night at my place. How does that sound.” Wrong – you don’t tell me what I’m doing, thought Becca with a hard stare. “But your mum says that you can be a bit of a handful when it comes to going to bed so James and Robbie are going to come too. Don’t worry, my house is plenty big enough for all of us and I’ve got some of your pills for you. First we need to go to the shops and get your special bread.”

 

Becca felt quite cool having all these grown ups running around after her but it never crossed her mind that this was all happening because her Mum was ill. Connections like that were a bit vague with Becca.

 

The boys were finishing off in the office but promised that they’d be round at Laura’s as soon as they’d picked up some overnight things. Becca was sulky and difficult, she’d wanted to go to James’ and listen to him playing the guitar. Laura wasn’t a good second best, even if the boys were coming too.

 

The doctor and the girl got a trolley and wandered slightly aimlessly around Tesco’s. The gluten free bread wasn’t a problem but Laura wanted to find things for Becca to do. She knew that she had some glitter pens and paper plus a couple of Barbies but that, mum had said, wouldn’t fill up a whole evening. Becca asked for balloons. That wasn’t a problem. Becca asked for a new and thunderingly expensive Barbie – that was. Becca asked for a gigantic jigsaw puzzle – that would take too much time and the bits would get lost. Fearing a tantrum, Laura bought some teen fic and steered her charge to the cafeteria where she bought her coke and crips.

 

Laura’s house was big, with a garden at the back with a swing seat in it. Becca immediately commandeered that and rocked herself violently. She got bored of that, it was no more fun that playing with Robbie’s swivel chair in the office, so she wandered into the house. Everything was very neat and clean and there were photos in silver frames all over the place. There was a picture of Laura in a wedding dress on the arm of a dark haired man in uniform.

 

“Who’s that?” Becca called out. Laura poked her head around from the kitchen and smiled

 

“That’s my late husband,” she answered.

 

“You should buy him an alarm clock,” the girl replied. Laura laughed out loud and came into the room.

 

“No, Becca, late in that context means “dead”. It’s a polite way of saying my husband died. He was an Army doctor and he died in Afghanistan.”

 

“So Robbie’s wife is the late Val,” volunteered Becca. Laura nodded and said

 

“Sort of but it’s best not to talk about her. He’s still very touchy about her. Best not eh?” Becca thought about it and then asked

 

“Were you in love with Robbie?” Laura smiled and shook her head

 

“What was that word James taught you “direct”? That is too personal Becca, I know that’s hard for you to understand but we don’t ask questions like that, we wait for people to tell us that kind of information.”

 

“And if they don’t?”

 

“Then we don’t know – and we leave it like that.”

 

Becca shook her head and thought that if she didn’t ask questions she’d never know any answers and what chance was there then of being a good detective?

 

She sat on a high stool at the breakfast bar and watched Laura unpack the shopping

 

“Good job, really,” she observed, “seeing as James is crazy in love with Robbie and it would be hard for him to choose. I think you and he are really good friends though.” She added judiciously as if this were some crumb of comfort she could offer the heart-broken doctor. Laura laughed out loud and said

 

“Now that, Miss, is DIRECT in capitals. You don’t go around saying things like that – especially if they aren’t true.” Becca got cross

 

“But it IS true, Laura, you must have noticed how he looks at Robbie with all that longing and those puppy-dog eyes.” Laura didn’t answer so Becca ventured further. “I bet they sleep together tonight, in the same bed and …”

 

“NO. Becca you really mustn’t. That is beyond direct, that is really naughty – Robbie and James would be really angry if they thought you were talking about them like that.”

 

“I know, they have to keep it a secret, but it’s OK cos Mum knows and some of her friends know and I know.”

 

“No you don’t Becca. You don’t know anything.” Laura was fighting to keep her patience, reminding herself that this child had very little idea of social niceties and propriety.

 

“We don’t talk about things like that Becca, OK? We just don’t. If I think you are going too far, I’ll just say OTT – OK?”

 

Oh fucking hell – James had the code-word “direct” and now Laura was giving her “OTT” and she was waiting to see what kind of bloody stupid signal Robbie would give her – maybe patting his head and rubbing his tummy at the same time. That made her giggle.

 

Laura’s mobile rang and she answered it, just saying OK a couple of times.

 

“That was James. They’re on their way over and they’re going to stop off and pick up a takeaway for supper – you said veg curry, no breads.”

 

Becca nodded – this was good, steak and chips at lunchtime and veg curry for supper – she really, really, really wanted to be a proper detective when she grew up … or maybe a pathologist, or a ballerina, or a model or maybe a … she got lost in wondering if she could be a detective/pathologist who was also a top model in her spare time and then if Mum could afford ballet classes.


	9. More detective work

James arrived first, an overnight bag in one hand and his guitar case in the other, swiftly followed by Robbie carrying two bags from the Indian take-away.

Laura and Becca had laid the table so they started dishing up. Becca suddenly had a terrible thought – what if one of them was a noisy eater? She absolutely hated even the normal sounds people make when eating but if someone slurped or chomped or clacked their cutlery on their teeth it made her feel physically ill.

 

Her mum must have said something to James on the phone because, before they got to sitting down, he fished his I pod out of his bag and handed it to Becca saying he thought she might like to hear some of his band’s music. To be honest she didn’t’ like the music at all but it stopped her having to hear any munching or drinking noises. She was grateful.

 

Of course it meant that she couldn’t hear what they were talking about either but as all three adults were speaking at once; she wouldn’t have been able to follow it anyway, so she just got on with enjoying her veg curry as much as possible.

 

When they’d finished and Laura had made coffee, James linked up his laptop, Robbie got out some papers and they began to discuss the case. Robbie went through the list of staff he’d seen at the school while James correlated on the computer.

 

“Rosalyn Barnes, Head Teacher, was very helpful but claimed not to know very much about Tammy, preferring to let her staff deal with day to day problems as she is completely bogged down with paperwork.”

 

“Clean record, divorced, two sons,” James intoned.

 

“Tammy’s Class Teacher – English teacher, Mr Singh – he got on well with Tammy but not much personal involvement as she had her Teaching Assistant – Kenny Newson who dealt with any of her personal or school problems.” Robbie stated.

 

“Sounds promising,” said Becca “her TA would know more about her than anyone else, or should do,” she added grimly.

 

“Can’t even find Kenny Newson on the teaching list. Will have to give him a lookover.”

 

“The Secretary at school is a Ms Tanya Webber – ex Royal Navy I think from the photograph in her office. She obviously had a lot of dealings with Tammy due to her frequent absences and liaising with her parents” Robbie continued.

 

James tapped on the computer again and said –

 

“Tanya Webber, occupation in the Navy – writer, excellent service record up til 2007 when she was dismissed the service for conduct unbecoming. That’s interesting, joined the school in 2008 – clean police record. Appears to be single.”

 

“What constitutes conduct unbecoming these days?” Laura asked, sipping her coffee.

 

“It used to be “conduct unbecoming an officer and gentleman” in the old days”, James informed her “but of course with sex equality I think they had to change the wording. Covers everything from being drunk on duty to shagging around … please excuse me, Becca.”

 

Becca shook her head in disbelief; she knew the word…for fuck’s sake.

 

“Only other teacher that saw a lot of Tammy was Mr Westwood, the sports teacher because he was coaching her in gymnastics.”

 

Hathaway consulted between two files and said

 

“Anthony Westwood? Only went into teaching later in life, graduated in 2006 from Middlesex University. On the school list he has a clean record but I’ve got an assault charge listed here from 1994 when he was working as a bouncer in a night club.”

 

Becca opened the diary and said

 

“That’s two TWs.”

 

The three adults looked at her and she sighed melodramatically

 

“In the diary - the entry for today - TW Kingfisher 530. I need to get in there and have a look.”

 

The two detectives looked at each other and she knew that look. Laura nodded sympathetically but Lewis said

 

“That would be going too far, Becca. We have to stick to the rules.”

 

Becca felt the anger and frustration bubbling up in her and she shouted

 

“No you don’t – you bend the rules all the time. You break into houses and say you smelt gas and with that rock group, James you went into a hotel room and stole a CD, I know you did.”

 

They had the grace to look embarrassed. Becca pushed on, trying hard to stay reasonable

 

“You don’t have to tell any lies. You can say that I might want to change schools, which is true and that my mummy is too ill to come, which is true and James is a friend of the family, which he is and you don’t have to say you’re a policeman.”

 

They looked at her in thunderstruck silence until James burst out laughing

 

“I thought I was sly and devious and could lie through my teeth, Becca but you have me beaten to a cocked hat!”

 

Becca lost interest in the conversation at that moment as her concentration had been used up so she demanded James play the guitar for her. She took his hand and stared lovingly at him to say

 

“Dear, sweet, sexy, clever, wonderful James - play the guitar”

 

“I’ll take that as a “please” shall I?” he smiled wryly. Robbie snorted and said

 

“Don’t encourage him, Becca; he’s big headed enough as it is.”

 

Adults are usually not accustomed to someone with a very limited attention span, and James was no exception.

 

When Becca got up and started bouncing around the room after he’d played one number he was visibly nettled. She stopped bouncing and said

 

“That’s boring. Can’t you play something we can sing along to?” James Hathaway, talented musician and vain bugger was about to make a sharp response but Laura caught his eye and shook her head.

 

They sang “Yellow Submarine” for at least 20 minutes until Becca got bored with that too and decided they’d have a balloon fight.

 

After that they had a Barbie fashion parade, some colouring and a dance contest. The adults finally decided that they’d take turns keeping Becca company. She would sleep on one of the sofas, as she did at home, if indeed she slept at all. The boys would take turns coming in to keep an eye on her in case Laura did fall asleep on the other one.

 

In desperation, when Becca asked for Laura’s make-up bag as she wanted to make James up properly, they gave in. Laura had given the girl a sedative and hoped it would kick in at some point soon. Becca really went to town on James – all pink and glitter and the sort of make-up Laura only had in her bag for special nights out, or had bought on an impulse and never worn.

 

While Becca was busy shading-in yet another and more frantic colour mauve, James said out of the corner of his mouth

 

“If anyone takes a photo or either of you tell anyone about this I will kill you. If Hooper ever got wind of this I’d have to ask for a transfer.


	10. A visit

Over breakfast the next morning, it was decided that Lewis would find out if Kenny Newson was at the school and if not, find him at his flat. Hathaway and Becca would make their “highly unusual” visit to the school. Becca was raring to go but all three adults were yawning and baggy-eyed from lack of sleep.

 

“Best you’re not seen in the office just yet, Becca – maybe this afternoon,” Lewis said as James herded her towards the car, already on the phone making an appointment to see the school secretary.

 

“Cover story – I will need to see the sports teacher, so let’s say I’m really keen to do martial arts.”

 

“I could so easily believe that,” said James, dryly. “Kick-boxing would be right up your street.”

 

“Will you take me rowing?” Becca sudden demanded, the connection between sport and James’ previous glory as a rower snapping in.

 

“Maybe, if there’s time. We do seem to be in the middle of a murder inquiry, Becca”

 

“After, when it’s over?” she demanded again.

 

“We’ll see,” was his only reply. Becca stuck her lower lip out and started a low moaning that grated on the nerves after a few seconds. “And certainly not if you continue making that racket,” James added.

 

“You’ve still got glitter in your eyebrows,” she said spitefully. It wasn’t true but it would worry him. James rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand until Becca whispered “Not really – but it would have been very funny.”

 

“You’re a monster, Becca”

 

“Yes - but you love me anyway.” She bounced her legs on the seat and stared out of the window and so missed the glance James gave her.

 

Highmains School was a very old building, much smaller than the modern comprehensive concrete monstrosity that Becca attended. They went up the steps to a long walkway that ran the length of the front of the house, and entered through the very solid, iron-studded door. The hallway had a high, vaulted ceiling and was paved in black and white tiles. The sign opposite the door said “School Secretary” and the arrow pointed to their right. To the left was a large wooden staircase that turned at right angles above their heads.

 

Tanya Webber’s office was small but very tidy, the desk, pushed right up to the wall under the large windows, was occupied with a computer and a modern telephone switchboard. There were two doors to the left of the office just beside the entrance, which Becca took to be storage cupboards.

 

“Rebecca Fox?” Tanya Webber asked and then, without offering her hand said “I’m Ms. Webber. I understand you might want to change schools?” She was tall and impeccably dressed in a suit that must have had a designer label on the neck, although she wore no make-up and very little jewellery. Becca nodded and said shyly

 

“I get bullied a lot at school now and my mummy had to take me out and educate me at home for a while but I went back and it’s still as bad.” She sounded very much younger than she was and much less able than James knew she was. He was impressed with her acting skills.

 

“Well we don’t tolerate bullying here, Rebecca. If you came here you’d have a mentor, a teacher you could go to with any thing that troubled you. The question would be, if we have a space for a person of your needs here. Highmains is a very progressive fee-paying school but we integrate a certain number of “special” pupils every year.” Becca nodded appreciatively, although mentally she was reflecting – bring in the dummies so the rich kids get used to it and the parents can feel that they are doing their bit. Fuckit.

 

“Would I have a quiet space please?” She asked, still playing the little mouse. Ms Webber went and opened one of the doors she had thought to be storage.

 

“This is one. Would you like to go inside and see how you like it?” Becca went in and closed the door while James distracted Ms.Webber with questions about uniform, bursaries, transport costs and other things a concerned “friend of the family” might ask.

 

Inside the quiet space, Becca had made the investigations she needed to and came out again declaring that it was perfect.

 

“Just one thing, Ms Webber,” James added “Becca is very keen to start martial arts; her mother thinks it might help to channel any pent-up energy she has. Would it be possible to speak to the sports teacher at all?” He smiled that charming smile that got him just about everywhere in life, although it seemed to cut no ice with Tanya Webber. A short “yes, no, yes” phone call was made and Ms Webber said briskly

 

“That should be no problem, Mr…” James apologised and introduced himself as Page, James Page which appealed to the guitarist in him. They would be able to see Mr Westwood during the break, after they’d seen the head teacher, whose office was the next door down the hall.

 

Out in the corridor James raised an eyebrow at Becca who gave him the thumbs-up sign, he responded by putting a finger to his lips.

 

Rosalyn Barnes’ office was on the corner of the building and had very high windows on two sides. She was a comfortable-looking middle-aged woman in slacks with a silk blouse and a jacket that looked Channel to Becca, but it could have been a knock-off.

 

Mrs. Barnes hardly spoke to Becca, giving her time to size up the office very thoroughly, wandering around while James spoke with her. There would have to be assessments, medical and psychological, no exams of course, and a social worker’s report, he understood but once those formalities were out of the way it would, of course, be a question of space. James guided her over to the windows to ask questions about the sports facilities, IT club, chess, just about anything he could think of. Having discovered a couple of very interesting things indeed, Becca got bored and started bouncing around again, just as the bell rang for morning break.

 

Tony Westwood met them in the corridor outside the staff room on the second floor. He was obviously very athletic and in great shape for a man of nearly 40, only the grey hair by his temples giving him away. He had curly dark hair and James imagined he could be very attractive to women. He agreed that martial arts, even boxing itself, could be a wonderful way to control and channel unwanted energy. James winced and was asked what sports he practiced. When he answered rowing and squash, the look said it all, which was pretty rich coming from a man who worked in a fee-paying school.

 

The conversation was cut short when the bell rang again and Mr. Westwood excused himself saying that he had an aqua-aerobics class to supervise and he had to get down to the pool.

 

Becca sighed unhappily, they had a pool here – she almost wished she WERE going to come to this school … until she remembered poor Tammy Stubbs. Then she grinned to herself – they would get the bastard, and she had just found out a lot of things that might help but when James asked her in the car what that was, she just shook her head –

 

“I’ll tell you and Robbie together at lunchtime. Ask him if he will be finished by lunch.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,’ sighed James and got out his mobile. The upshot of the conversation was that they could meet Robbie for lunch in the office at one so James and Becca were free for a couple of hours. They went back to Becca’s house to see how her mum was and ended up playing on her DS at which James was surprisingly bad.

 

They’d collected a sandwich lunch to take to the office, making sure that Becca’s needs were catered for and she carried the strong paper bag with handles while James took charge of the coffees.

 

Finally in the office together Becca laid out what she had observed.

 

“One – from the quiet space, the glass panel above the door – if you stand on a chair you can see into the Secretary’s office. You could see anything she was doing, including what was on her screen.

I don’t like Ms Webber, she is nasty. And her suit was too expensive for a secretary. Did you see her bracelet? It was a real gold one. Really thick chain with a padlock and a letter charm but I couldn’t see which one.

Two – Mrs. Barnes is in love – I found a post-it- note in her drawer, which was, by the way, already half open, I didn’t have to open it .. a post-it with “dinner? And a heart and TW” .

Three – why does Mrs. Barnes have big lamps in her room – on top of her cupboard there were big lights with their stands folded up – and why are they there, why doesn’t she have them set up?”

 

Becca finished - James clapped and Robbie gave a low whistle of appreciation.

 

“And I,” Robbie added “Have been round to Kenny Newson’s flat and taken away his computer and a pile of porn as evidence. Hooper is going through it now for anything illegal but you might have to take over the computer, James. I got his co-operation in exchange for over-looking a small amount of an illegal substance that was in his flat as well. To be honest, I’m not sure he could be the one – he is genuinely cut-up about Tammy’s death and he’s a nice kid. Wanted to be a nurse, failed the entrance exam, became a TA. And I think it is safe to say, having seen his taste in literature, that he wouldn’t have been interested in Tammy sexually.”

 

“Wha?” Becca was lost.

 

“Robbie is trying to say that Kenny Newson is gay, Becca,” James explained patiently.

 

“OK, rule out the TA for now. That leaves us with who is Rosalyn Barnes having an affair with- our friend TW again and I want the computer seized from the School Secretary’s room. Plus, if the Secretary is wearing half a year’s salary on her back, I’d like a look at her bank accounts. The lights bother me – why do people use big lights?”

 

“Filming,” said Becca, beginning to lose interest again as her concentration waned “and did I mention the binoculars?”


	11. Things hot up

Hooper came up to the office after lunch to report that he’d found “nothing untoward” in the stack of porn they’d seized from Kenny Newson. It was all bog-standard gay porn - he gave a sideways glance at James as he said that, which didn’t escape Becca’s attention.

The laptop was dumped on Hathaway’s desk and Hooper grinned at him

“Enjoy yourself, Sarge – should keep you busy all afternoon.” There was a definite subtext to that remark also, which James ignored.

Robbie got the finance section onto Tania Webber’s bank details, then he organised Hooper to go and confiscate the secretary’s computer and make a search of the Headmistress’ office, especially with regards to the high-powered lights and with instructions to look for any camera equipment, which was also to be brought in.

Jean Innocent came in and asked to be briefed. She wasn’t happy. She didn’t notice Becca who had managed to make herself, almost invisible on the floor behind James’ desk, playing with her Barbie.

“I hope you are sure of your facts, Lewis,” Innocent said severely. “Many of the most influential people in Oxford send their children to Highmains.”

“In that case they will be delighted that we are pulling out all the stops to solve a murder at that august establishment, Ma’am,” James said smoothly.

She gave him a suspicious look and warned

“You better be bloody sure of your facts before you go blundering in and wrecking the shop.”

“Oh we are, Ma’am, we are.” Robbie assured her.

Once Innocent was out of the room he hauled Becca out from behind James’ chair and said

“Oh no, young lady, no peeking over James’ shoulder – this is strictly adults only stuff. I want you to tell me about the binoculars.”

“In Mrs Barnes office, there was a coat stand, and under the coats there was a pair of binoculars. Tammy was keen on bird-watching and the note said “Kingfisher” so I suppose someone told her to come and meet them to see kingfishers. That person would be a bird-watcher.”

James was hunched over the portable, angling it away from Becca and flicking through the porn sites that Kenny Newson had visited. He looked up and said

“Good deduction, Becca but the binoculars might not belong to Mrs. Barnes, however it does mean that someone in there uses them - worth investigating.” Robbie picked up the phone and rang Hooper, informing him of the new development and asking him to question Mrs. Barnes about the binoculars as well as taking them as evidence.

After consultation, they decided that Robbie would go to the school as well and take all three of the adults they suspected in for questioning.

Becca had commandeered Robbie’s desk, having been forbidden to go anywhere near James’ so she was making glitter pictures of the enquiry so far.

 

James suddenly sat bolt upright and peered intently at the screen. He rewound a section and looked again, then he tore a hole in a sheet of paper and held it up to the screen.

 

“Becca! Come here, I want to show you something, and it is quite OK.” Becca shot over, she didn’t care if it wasn’t OK, she wanted to see.

 

There, in the hole in the paper was a face, frozen in a still from a movie. It was younger and with no grey hair but it was unmistakeable.

 

“Mr. Westwood,” she shrieked. “What’s he doing in there?” James looked grim and said

 

“Starring in a porn movie, something that is generally discouraged amongst the teaching profession - although, judging from his looks this was some time ago.” He picked up the phone and contacted Robbie. “Just to let you know, Sir. Tony Westwood is in the frame again – he appeared in some very adult films in his youth – yes, the ones we got from Kenny Newton so that opens up the possibility of blackmail if anyone else at the school found out about it – Tanya Webber for example. Or Kenny Newson could have recognised him.”

 

From then on, it got quite frantic. All four suspects were brought in and taken to separate interview rooms, the computer was hastily delivered to IT and finance were told to get their finger out. Forensics got to work on the binoculars and, finding some half-decent fingerprints were hopeful they could get a match.

 

Tony Westwood was the only person already on file but his didn’t match at all, so a uniformed officer was sent to fingerprint the others to “eliminate them from the enquiry”. Robbie decided to leave them to stew and observe them to give IT some time to work on the computer. From behind the glass they could see that Tania Webber was irritated but cool, Rosalyn Barnes was edgy and nervous, constantly complaining that she would have to be home for her sons coming back from school. A woman constable was sent to take details of someone who could pick them up. Tony Westwood was nervous, pacing up and down the room and flexing his fingers constantly. Kenny Newson kept demanding a cigarette and biting his nails. Hathaway could sympathise.

 

“Doesn’t make sense, blackmailing Tony Westwood, just doesn’t fit,” Robbie mused. “He’s on a PE teacher’s salary – how would he make payments that would keep Tanya Webber in designer clothes? There has to be something else.”

 

“And it wouldn’t explain why Tammy was murdered,” said Becca “She must have found out something that someone thought it was worth killing for. I think she saw something in Ms Webber’s office.”

 

The detectives looked at her and Robbie said

 

“Go on, Becca, what are you thinking?”

 

“Well if Mrs Barnes is having an affair, she might go into the secretary’s room at lunchtime or something and Tammy could have seen her with her boyfriend and that would be a real no-no.”

 

Finance came up with something very interesting in a short time. Tania Webber received regular large payments from an offshore fund. They were trying to find out who it belonged to but that might be more tricky. The sums involved were more than twice as much as her salary.

 

“Well that rules out blackmailing Tony Westwood,” observed Hathaway.

 

Hooper joined them behind the glass and said

 

“Lass was right about filming – all the equipment needed in a cupboard in Barnes’ room – just the floodlights left out – careless, very careless. No film in the cameras unfortunately but all very professional stuff, worth a fortune.”

 

Everyone went very quiet for a moment and then Hathaway said

 

“I think we’re all thinking the same thing, aren’t we, Sir?” They didn’t want to say it in front of Becca.

 

“Yes, Sergeant, I’m thinking it’s time we took Becca home. You’ve been a fantastic help but this is going to get nasty, Becca and I want you out of the way. I promise we’ll tell you when we have the whole story but I don’t want you around because people are going to say things I don’t think your mummy would want you to hear. Now this isn’t up for debate, pet. Do you understand me?”

 

Becca was both furious and hurt but she knew that there would be no arguing. The look on the three detectives’ faces was grim. Somehow she really did understand that this was grown-up stuff and she let herself be led away by James who drove her home in total silence.

 

Outside the gate she burst into tears and he went to rub her shoulder but she shrugged him away.

 

“I hate you. I fucking hate you all. You wanted me to help and now it’s nearly there and I can’t be in on it.”

 

“I’m sorry Becca but that is how it is. Life isn’t fair sometimes and I understand just how you feel. Believe me, I do – and Robbie meant it when he said we probably wouldn’t have done the job nearly as quickly without you. Look – when it’s over I’ll take you rowing – would that help?”

 

She shook her head. Nothing would help…well, one thing might.

 

“Give me a hug.”

 

“I can’t do that, Becca, it’s inappropriate.”

 

She started to wail as he led her up the path and her mummy opened the door. James explained the situation and Becca’s mum looked troubled

 

“She’s going to be totally impossible for the rest of the day,” she sighed.

 

James bit the skin around his thumbnail for a second and then said

 

“Well, if it’s OK with you … come here Becca” and he scooped her up in his arms and gave her a hug. “There, is that better?” She sniffed and hugged him back, burying her face in his neck and squeezing him tight.

 

“Love you, James,” she whispered. He leaned his head back to see her properly and said

 

“You are my favourite lady detective ever. You’re brilliant and I am so glad you came to help us. I won’t forget about taking you rowing – if your mummy agrees.”

 

That would do. She would have liked him to say he loved her too but that would have been asking too much. She got down and went indoors, waving from the window as he drove away.

 

 

“


	12. And finally ...

They didn’t hear anything from the detectives for a few days so she was almost surprised when a police car drew up outside their house and a female uniformed officer came and asked if they were free the next afternoon. Mummy said they were and arrangements were made for them to be picked up.

Becca hadn’t ridden in a proper police car before, only in Robbie’s or James’ so it was a bit of a treat to whiz through the streets of Oxford to the police station – only they wouldn’t use the blues-n-twos which was a shame.

When they got to CID, Becca couldn’t believe her eyes and her mummy was close to tears. The whole of Robbie and James’ office was decked out with balloons and the place reeked of chips.

The entire department crowded in to congratulate her as she sat swivelling in Robbie’s chair, stuffing her face with chips and drinking coke. Jean Innocent presented her with a special certificate they’d made with her name on it, declaring her “Honorary Detective Constable”.

When everyone else went back to work, Robbie and James filled her in on the results of the case, glancing over at her mummy to make sure they weren’t giving her too much adult information.

The TW had, of course, turned out to be Tania Webber who was having an affair with Mrs. Barnes and the two of them were filming children at the school to sell on to a paedophile ring. The money was paid into Mrs. Barnes offshore account and subsequently distributed to the School Secretary. This was what Tammy had seen on the screen from her quiet room and must have said something. A pair of trainers had been found in Ms. Webber’s office, along with a hoodie, in the pocket of which were gloves which still contained fibres from Tammy’s scarf.

Kenny Newson had recognised Tony Westwood in the film, his overtures to the sports teacher failed because he didn’t know that Westwood was only appearing in the films to fund his way through University. He was, in fact, straighter than the proverbial dye but Kenny had put pressure on Tony to try and get him advanced in the school system, as an assistant teacher rather than a teaching assistant. That would explain why Tony Westwood was so nervous, that and the fact that he knew he’d lose his job once it was found out that his past was less than savoury.

So there were several charges arising from this, including murder and Becca had been instrumental in solving them all.

The next day James took her out rowing, not the kind of racing rowing he’d done at Cambridge but in an ordinary rowing boat on the canal. It was a sunny day and she lay on the cushions at the back, looking at the sky, feeling suddenly sleepy. The clouds passing by overhead made her feel dreamy and not quite there …

“You’re going to be late for school and I haven’t brushed your hair yet.” Mummy was starting to get cross.

Becca sat up and looked around bewildered. Lewis was still playing on the TV as it had been when she fell asleep. She ran to find a pen to write down her dream before she forgot it.


End file.
